


Like Leaves in Fall

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Artist Dean, Gentle Dom Castiel, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sub Dean, Wingfic, Wingfic- freeform, brief handprint!kink, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has always wondered what Cas' wings look like. When he finally gets a chance to find out, it goes a bit unexpectedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Leaves in Fall

Cas is an angel. Therefore he has wings.

Dean knew this; he heard them every time Cas appeared and disappeared when he thought about it. The angel moved in a way that accommodated large, if invisible, additional appendages. When he was proud or angry, his shoulders lifted and Dean could picture perfectly the shadows he’d seen in the barn puff up behind the huge overcoat. Naturally, Dean’s human curiosity picked at his mind when he thought about his best friend, wondering. He always wondered. They existed, obviously. So how come Dean couldn’t ever see or feel them? It’s not like he’d never walked behind the dude. So... where were they? What were they even like?

It was just these questions the elder Winchester was pondering on a crisp day in October at the bunker. Sam had gone out for a hike fifteen minutes before, saying he’d be gone for at least two hours so don’t call him before then. Fine by Dean. It gave him time to do something he’d wanted to try for a while, but didn’t entirely want Sam to see. He got a few sheets of blank paper to practice first, and got out pencils. He picked one with a good point on it, pursing his lips. He'd have to do this from memory, since he didn't have a picture to copy off of. He did a few preliminary sketches until he was satisfied with them, before choosing another sheet and starting. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he drew dark lines, appropriate for the subject at hand. He left the figure itself in black (or rather, grey) and white; he knew what that part looked like. Now he began on the part he had never actually seen. He based the basic shape off those of raptors, like hawks and eagles. A warrior should have a warrior's wings, he reasoned. There were also immensely powerful. The tops arced out, fanning in a broad display. Dean was careful to try to draw in as many details as possible. When he finished those, he leaned back against the chair, gazing at the colored pencils off to the side.

"I don't know what color they should be," he mused.

"I can tell you if you like," came a gravelly voice from behind him. He jumped- he'd been so absorbed in his work he hasn't heard the telltale flutter of feathers.

"Cas," he greeted, blushing profusely. The angel was certainly close enough to see what was on the paper on the desk. "How long have you been watching?"

"The last half hour. You are very meticulous."

"Thanks, I guess. Now what did you say before?"

"I can tell you. Or show you," he said more softly, "if you prefer."

The hunter looked stunned for a moment. Then he spoke in an ecstatic burst.

"Can you really do that?" The angel nodded. "Why haven't you done it before?"

"You never expressed any interest before," he replied. Was Cas... Blushing? No. It couldn't be. "Showing your wings... It is an act of great trust. For a very long time, even if you had insisted I would have refused."

"But now..."

"Yes."

It took Dean a minute to come to terms with the other's statement. Cas trusted him that much? He was, if he was going to label it, honored, really. That such a powerful creature would trust him enough to be a best friend, someone he would show his wings to. "Wow," was the only comment he could think of. He could've slapped himself for that, but he noticed how Cas' mouth went up at the corners, so he hasn't messed up too badly. He looked into sky-blue eyes and nodded.

"I'd love to see your wings, if you will let me," he said quietly. Hints of hopefulness and anticipation tinged the statement. The angel nodded.

"Close your eyes a moment." The hunter did as he said. There was a whoosh sound like Cas usually made when he disappeared, but it didn't come with the usual sense of absence. He waited until Cas said he could open his eyes.

He gaped, another soft "wow" dropping from his mouth. The limbs were huge, seeming to fill the room. He'd been right on the shape, as they were a raptor's wings, and he took a small bit of pride in guessing that much right.

But the most astonishing part was the color. At first glance they appeared to be a deep, solid navy blue, but as they caught the light they flickered, shifting to subtle indigo to an almost black while other colors danced like the aurora borealis over the feathers.

"They- they're beautiful," he said reverently. The angel shivered at the praise.

"Thank you, Dean. From you that carries a great deal of meaning for me." The hunter glanced at his face for a brief moment before his eyes returned to their attempt to memorize every feather, each individual plume. He wondered-

"What do they feel like?" The angel looked over at him.

"Do you wish to touch them?"

"Can I? I won't, like, get zapped or something?"

"They are an extension of my self, Dean," Cas replied evenly. "They will not harm you." The brunette nodded and stepped forward. He hesitated, before briefly running his finger down a long feather at the top. Just his fingertip.

It was amazing. It felt as if tiny sparks were jumping from the satin wing and landing on his finger. Emboldened, he brushed another finger along, but stopped when he heard Castiel's breath catch.

"Cas, you okay?" he asked, face showing his concern.

"I was not expecting the flood of sensation. It is... Overwhelming," the angel replied in a breathless voice. "I have never been touched in such a fashion." Dean pulled his hand away quickly, an apology trotting immediately onto his tongue, but Cas' millennia-old soldier's reflexes grabbed his wrist. "But do not stop," the angel said, low and firm. Slightly surprised and relieved, and more than a little curious, Dean nodded, and reached forward to run his full hand over the top of Cas' wing. The angel gasped sharply, and Dean almost pulled away.

"Cas? You sure about this?"

Castiel nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Dean moved his hand a bit apprehensively down the wing, letting his fingers trail through the feathers on the way. He had an idea what this was doing to Cas, but his curiosity was killing him. The feathers felt like satin, and he wished briefly to press his face against them to see what that felt like. One of his fingers caught a feather by accident, and there was no denying the quiet moan that escaped Cas' usually uptight guard. Dean's green eyes snapped to his face to see flushed cheeks and hooded eyes, Cas' breath short and shallow.

"Cas?" he asked again, slightly more hoarse and rougher than usual. The angel met his gaze slowly.

"Dean." He sounded so debauched. Just from Dean running his fingers through those blue-black feathers. And Dean hadn't realized how much he needed to hear his name said like that, from those Cupid's bow lips. His mouth had gone dry. A delicate pink tongue flicked out and dampened Cas' lips-

And the hunter lost all grasp of reason. He came forward and pressed his lips against the angel's, chapped to soft, chaste, but his hands found the ridges of the tops of Cas' wings. He tilted his head, lips parting to catch the moan that trickled through, and he found a tentative tongue brushing his lower lip. He hesitated only a second before meeting it with his own. Seemingly emboldened, Cas pressed against him, hands gripping the hunter's hips and pulling a groan from him. The angel's tongue pushed inside his mouth and he welcomed it, let it explore and examine and taste because he got to taste Cas at the same time. The angel's pace was slow at first, but at Dean's increased touch on his wings it turned more searching, more intense. Finally they had to pull away for breath, and Cas said in a breathy voice,

"Dean, I do not know how else to say this. I… want you."

Those words from that Cas's mouth destroyed all remaining clear-headedness the hunter possessed.

"Fuck, Castiel, you can have me."

As if his full name flipped a switch inside the angel, he pushed Dean backward until he fell back onto the bed, pulling Cas down atop him by his hand holds in the dark wings. Cas half-groaned, half-growled at the pull on his plumage, his dark eyes finding Dean's as he shoved the giant coat and suit jacket off in one smooth motion. Dean didn't have time to wonder how they slid right through the wings before Cas' hands were sliding under his shirt and pushing it up over his head. The hunter helped, pulling it the rest of the way off and gasping as the angel's mouth found his collarbone. He arched up into him as Castiel sucked and bit, pulling a dark red mark on the surface of his skin. While Dean's hands fumbled with the buttons of Cas's shirt, Cas' own hand found the handprint scar on the hunter's shoulder. A bolt of pleasure shot through his body to the bulge already straining against the confines of his jeans.

Cas seemed to get sick of Dean doing things the slow way by undoing each button, and yanked the rest open, dropping the white shirt to the floor before returning his attentions to the man beneath him. Dean writhed, moaning at Cas' new choice of exploit- his throat. He had a bit of leverage, though. He reached around to grab the base of Cas' wing, where feather blended smoothly with skin. The angel gave a satisfying moan before biting down on Dean's neck.

"Need more, Cas," the hunter gasped out. He grabbed the material of Cas' slacks and pulled them down before shoving them off. The angel was quick to do the same for Dean, yanking the jeans roughly from his partner's body in one swift motion. He ground his hips down against Dean's, desperately seeking friction. The hunter moaned a soft "fuck me" out of pure reflex.

"Is that what you want?" Cas growled in the hunter's ear. Dean moaned again, not speaking. Cas nipped his ear, causing the man to buck his hips against the angel's own, and both groaned. "I said," Cas repeated breathlessly, "is that what you want?"

"Fuck, yes, please, Cas," Dean panted.

"I need to know," the angel murmured. Dean managed to meet his gaze and was greeted with steadfast blue eyes, dark, but with a hint of uncertainty. Cas had to know he did this willingly. The hunter took a breath before whispering,

"Yes. Fuck me. Want you, Cas, please." It was almost begging, and it was enough. The angel nodded before ravaging Dean's mouth again. Deft fingers slid the white cotton down his legs and off, and he moaned into Cas' mouth at the rush of air. He rolled up into Cas and both groaned again. Cas bit down on Dean's lower lip and more sounds spilled from his mouth. He pushed Cas' boxers off in a hurry, and the angel was quick to roll his hips to pull an almost-whimper from the hunter beneath him. Dean, in a flash of inspiration, reached into the nightstand to grab the small tube in the drawer. When Cas pulled off to breathe, he placed it in the angel's hand. Cas looked confused only a moment before realization dawned. His hooded eyes glimmered with desire. He spread some of the slickness over his fingers and reached down to press against Dean's entrance. The hunter's back arched as he moaned. Cas circled him a few times before easing in a finger. Dean almost jumped at the unfamiliar sensation. Cas gave him a moment to adjust before pushing in to stretch him. Dean groaned as Cas moved, widening and stretching. The angel pushed in another finger and scissored and Dean almost cried out. He barely registered when a third finger slipped in with the others. His hands stayed tangled in the thick dark feathers; Cas couldn't have all the fun.

The hunter whined at the loss when the fingers were removed, and Cas put a finger to his lips.

"Shh." Dean's eyes went wide, almost in indignation, but he wanted Cas too much to protest. The angel slicked himself and slowly, carefully positioning himself, pushed inside his partner, hands braced on either side of Dean's head. Dean swore at the burn. Cas almost stopped, not wanting to hurt him, but Dean saw it in his eyes and whispered fiercely,

"Don't you dare stop now." Cas nodded.

"Then hold onto my wings." They lowered enough that Dean could firmly grab the ridges at the top. Castiel shuddered and gasped at the sudden hard grip, before easing out and pushing back in. He thrust in again, creating a slow rhythm that pulled a string of noises and swears from the hunter. The two moved together, panting as Cas' thrusts sped up. Dean was gripping the wings tightly, jerking with the power of them. Suddenly a huge jolt of pleasure shot through Dean and he cried out.

"Fuck! Do that again!" Cas slammed into him hard, and he groaned again as the angel hit his prostate. It did not take long before he moaned out "close, close."

"Dean," the angel groaned. "Dean, Dean, Dean." His name, said like that from those gorgeous lips, was the last straw.

"Castiel," he moaned as his climax ripped through him and he saw stars. Cas stiffened and groaned, his wings flaring out wide as he filled his hunter. Dean moaned softly as he felt Cas empty inside him. He collapsed against the bed, the wings pulled from his grip. There was a flutter of feathers as the wings disappeared, and Cas collapsed atop him, breathing hard. Dean's hand came up and absent-mindedly rubbed Cas' back. After a few moments his breathing steadied and his pulse slowed. Cas lifted his head to gaze into green eyes, a soft smile flitting across his face before he pressed his lips gently to Dean's. The hunter barely pressed against him before his angel pulled away.

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean."

"You know how you said showing your wings is an act of great trust?" The angel nodded. "Well, so's... What we just did." He nodded again.

"I know, Dean." The hunter kissed him. Cas pulled out and lay beside him, cleaning them with a quick wave of his hand. He pulled Dean close, hand pulling his head to the pale chest. It was only just before he fell asleep that Dean realized he wouldn't be able to properly draw Cas' wings, because the colors kept changing.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing non-rp smut. Thoughts?


End file.
